a seashell covered in moss

 Thirteen hits of weed and my minds lost in space

Words float away from my mouth 

 Empty and stale like an opened bag of chips

  Art will help

 but I end up drawing a huge flower with octopus vines

"Fuckin' stoner", I tell myself

The girl next to me is learning Chinese

I can't even produce a full sentence in English

Adam and I on my rooftop last summer
notice our eyes


oh dear.